Grim Twilights
by Stabb
Summary: In a world where vampires are dominant and humans are their slaves broods a dark plot of the past Slayer and her plans. Now the newest Slayer must unlock her powers and those plans, but to do that she must get find help from a very unlikely source BXS
1. Three Black Knights

**Story Name –** Brand New Day

**Story Summary –** In a world where vampires are dominant and humans are their slaves broods an eerie dark plot of the past Slayer and her plans. But now the present Slayer, Buffy, is enslaved by a family of Slayer hunters, when she unlocks her powers she finds an opening available to her and to all human race, and to get to it she must untangle the roots to an bleached blonde's heart.

**Chapter Summary – **Meet Faith our past Slayer, her prized revolution and the Three Knights.

**Authors Notes – **Stabb here. This isn't any old Buffys a slave and her and Spikey have some love thing going on fic. It's a bit twisted I can say. Im pretty proud. I got a few chapters written up. Read. Minimum flammage please?

**Prologue – **Three Black Knights

* * *

_"The world works like this.  
God made people  
People were meant dance and sing and cry  
So these people would dance fervently  
Sing their very hearts out  
And cry until their tears made the oceans  
But then through it all their crying, singing, and dancing;  
The world which bred them--swallowed them up.  
Leaving nothing but their ashes.  
Until out of their end came a beginning."  
_

**Prologue: **Three Black Knights

Here, the night does not sleep.

Here, instead of tucking in and resting its bulging head, it reawakens and becomes as viscous and blood thirsty as ever. It does not curl and roast in slumber, instead it lights up like a fiery tornado and ravages the sky with husky breath. Cars that shouldn't be woken, are shredding roads, squealing and eating away at tar. Shop lights flicker themselves on while they should be clicked off, and pedestrians… well… they aren't incredibly welcome, but nonetheless they exist, stroll, run, or spring themselves down the streets. Eaten up by cars, or tumbling down the passage ways of the nicely paved tunnels. Here, at the swoons of night, it is the loudest.

This shouldn't be the norm… should it?

In the fire lights of the hot and sweaty night lays a girl her face is a deep and auburn tan while her dark devouring black eyes scan the area around her. She scuffles across another grubby alley way tossing a handful of stringy black hair from her face, she found herself once again annoyed by it, and then quickly wounding it about in a tight professional looking bun. She stalks the sidewalks that are broken apart by very determined weeds and by her technique and jerky movements creates this alley cat feeling that is contagious to every vampire on the street. It leaps from one another like wildfire cornered into an edge. Deep inside each of the vampires is this little pulse, a pulse that should be silenced but still rings out. If these vampires were older and not so domesticated then the girl would be alerted and in a sticky situation. But thanks to some generations of siring, the vampires quickly shrugged off the alien feeling and returned back to their nightly business. These vampires are too tame, too used to having their lives served upon them on a silver platter. They are too blinded to even sense their cores and the instincts that are supposed to be etched in their DNA coding as demons. These aren't real vampires… the girl harshly cries inside her mind, vampires are evil demons that fight and burn until everything smolders into ashes. These are nothing but pampered inhuman bodies.

The girl who was now whipping around another corner was clad in black. Her jet black jeans were straddling and too short as they hugged tightly to her thighs, a tube top that matched them was equipped along with a soft and weathered leather coat that grazed around her hips, and looped around her neck was a forbidden device that was a sterling silver. A cross. She had a bag slung around her shoulder, a simple knapsack thing, but inside it were the real treasures. Laying buried in the pockets were bottles of sacred holy water, that had been pickled away for probably decades since no churches were around for miles and miles, most had been burned and destroyed in the revolution. Three stakes that had been fastened out of wooden chairs lying about, a crusty old crossbow with a weathered string, along with two large metal crosses that had also been along with the pickled holy water that she had discovered in her late owners house. Before her calling.

It was a strange coincidence that her owner had once been a Watcher before he had been turned. Maybe too much of a coincidence? Her mind rattled and rung inside with still unanswered questions, on the bag was a stitching and it read Faith. That was her name. Faith the Slayer, the chosen one, the lone one, the appointed one, maybe the annoying one, but she was what she was. One.

Faith took two back wards looks around her before she darted off once more. Through her Slayer enhanced senses she could whiff out the begrudged smells of gnarled gas and gunpowder. Most of the time, the gas smell would be of no value to her. There were many cars that were driven around by the cultivated vampires, so the very common rugged sense was of no surprise. It was the gun powder that startled her… for you see, why would a vampire need gun powder when his weapon is already lodged into his face and muscles? These were the Three Black Knights. And they're steeds were the three slick black Sedans that straddled the graveled road with pride and tore through it as if it was some play thing. The grumbling and snarling vehicles were drawing closer by the feel of the earth, Faith's eyes widened as she groped for the most important and revered item. Twisting herself around another bend she quickly snapped the softened (with time) parchment open to reveal its caramel color and dark bleeding letters. It was the reason of Faith's attempted escape and of her first killing of a vampire. This… this piece of paper would be her knight in shining armor. Her hope. All their hopes.

It would remold the once lost mankind.

But she wasn't the only one after its whispering secrets.

So she had to depart to leave this rotting town and found a witch which was by no means here. Every spiritual being was probably slaughtered before they could even whimper out a cry. No, if she wanted her deed to be cast she would have to leave. For good.

Another quick dash around a crook and into the deep spikes of a fork she flashed across the streets. Maybe if she kept her pace and kept coiling around these streets she could throw off her pursuers and get out of this hell once and for all. But as she moved and paced, she couldn't help but hear the growls of the motor cars edging their ways towards her. The pamphlet now outside its home of her bag and under her armpit, was flapping in the wind gently. The vampires around her with their dull senses were beginning to become more attentive as they watched her scramble down the streets. Though her behavior was strange, they probably thought that she was some enslaved human doing a hasty errand for her master, but nonetheless Faith captured their attention. And that was not wanted.

And then came the sudden rumble not only in her gut, but behind her.

There stood behind her was a large greasy looking black Sedan turning a red lit eye to her turning back into gear at the sight of her. Oh no. Faith could feel her eyes widen in the socket, and more importantly the burn that was itching in her Slayer thighs, they were yearning for that run, their instinct was now wailing out. The large almost angry looking vehicle switched into drive and began to inch towards Faith in that taunting slow driven way. Her heartbeat picking up she darted across the street and began to grope for her crossbow that was perfect for long distance shooting if those pesky little drivers decided to reveal themselves. Well… if she actually aimed right. You see, Faith had only used the crossbow once, and that had been on her owner Wesley because he caught whiff of her scheme and attempted to stop her. It hadn't been much of fight, though Wesley was a dark vampire he was more of a pacifist than anything. Which a lot of times Faith admired him for and others mocked him for. But even though Faith had silent respect for his awe-spiring decision, this had not stopped her from protecting her delicate plan. Nothing could do that.

So as Wesley began to corner her, her collar now torn off, but his whip still sizzling and laying inside his palm she had whipped out the crossbow. It had taken three shots for her to capture his heart until he dispersed into a cloud of sandy smoke. So lets just say that Faith's aim wasn't something that should be betted for.

Despite it all though, the car slowed and revved as it caught glance of the bouncing crossbow and she could predict the driver inside, mind was churning with thought. The vampires around her were more alarmed then ever as they saw the crossbow, even though they had been broken they knew of their kinds falls. The stake, holy water, the cross, and (the thing they have forgotten) the Slayer.

So the rare sight of a crossbow in the hands of a human no less (with no collar) was quite strange and a bit… frightening to them. Faith gave a wild grin as she cut through a crowd as if a knife and howled out. A vampire interconnected with hers with words.

"Wha… was that a crossbow?"

"Why does she have no collar!?"

"Is that car following her?"

"WHAT THE HELLS GOING ON?"

Faith almost broke out in ragged laughter as she dived another panicked crowd that leapt from her as if she was wild fire. The Sedan was taking no chances now, a large bear hand revealed itself from a glossy black stained window and inside it was a dark revolver. Ah, that proves the gun powder… her mind questioned. She felt surprisingly nimble and rebellious and screeched as a few shot avoided her barely, the rowdy crowd of vampires also spoke out their minds as they saw the bullets fly by.

"Was that a gun!"

"Those are illegal!? The government will be af-"

"Oh my demon, get the hell outta here!?"

"Why are they trying to shoot that human!?"

"She's a felon that's why!"

Faith found the streets emptying themselves which was a downside on her part, she needed the security shield of the other vampires to cloak her from the eyes of the Sedan which had now been joined by another of its Black Knights. There was no doubt the third would unveil itself soon, and then Faith would be a load of trouble. The first was trailing behind her at a steady pace, while the other was beginning to catch up with the Slayer speed. Both were armed and shooting madly at her. Faith found herself panicking also.

What if she couldn't escape and lose this crowd? What if she was caught and they got hold of her parchment? No. No this was not going to happen. This was for mankind, because this… this SOCIETY it wasn't right. Wasn't supposed to be. Faith knew this, her sources had seen it. And damn did she trust that source.

Those were her thoughts until she felt a scorching pain arch up her back and into the pitfall of her heart. A bullet. A blinding and scorching pain began to race up and down her back, blood began to mound together as its pathways were blocked and then she could feel it. Her heart. Squirm around by the wound, by the bullet caught inside of it. And in that moment, in that single whole hearted bullet, she knew it. She was going to die.

It wasn't the wound that was now in the back parts of her abdomen, (even though it did help) it was that inching and crawling feeling that was now digging inside her. Devouring the bits and bits of Slayer power that once reigned supreme inside her. It was telling her it was time to die. Time to rest. And surprisingly Faith was not afraid, as she would have a while ago. Death actually looked inviting, she welcomed it inside her, the burden of being a Slayer did have its small ups, but mostly it had its downs. Generations were trusting in her, vampires were loathing and despised her, and most of all… she could never rest. Now she felt rest coming, rest blooming inside her. Her legs began to weaken and her heart rate began to slow, most of all the Slayer strength began to drain from her… soon she would be free … soon this life would be nothing but a memory…soon….

THE PAPER!

It jolted the last of her life, the feel of the paper, the feel of a brand new life for humans. She found herself still running in a pathetic and saddening way, the parchment slipping from her hands. She recaptured it the pain was now numbed in her back killing the nerves and destroying her brain, dawdling her death and postponing the pain. Faith felt almost luck drawn because a truck dwindled by even if in surprise by the scene of two Sedans with guns firing about and a girl with blood pouring from her body, Faith found her way onto the back bumper and clung to it in desperation. Death may be coming at a wild and dangerous pace but she would beat it that was for sure, she would find a home for this parchment, this revolution, for the next Slayer. Even in her bleeding heart now she could feel the next Slayer arouse from her deep enchanted slumber and be reborn inside a new body, the one inside her was fading away. The truck read a family's name, one she could trust, or… at least one member of it she could trust, the Richards. Inside the trucks backside were large padded boxes shuffled together inside them were shrouds of stuffing and arrays of books and leather bounds. In her hot desperation she pulled her fingers and wedged them between the boards of one isolated box feeling her fingers began to bleed the box finally pried open she saw the books and dug until she touched the last one it wasn't large nor was it even a incredibly important one. But the secret was that in the back flapping was a secret hide away…one large enough to fit her revolution to fit…. Throwing her bag alongside inside with the box, she gave a soft smile. Yes she might've failed tonight, failed her duty to rise the human race out of the gutter as a Slayer, yes. But she had created a brand new path for the fresh Slayer to follow and to be the hero and bring about the world from this sham and into the light which they haven't seen in so long.

She might not be told throughout history and when spoken of had a tone of respect and admiration. No. But in her heart, she would know that she had a part in this play. And that was good enough for Faith.

She threw herself off the truck, and in midair her heart gave out and she transcended into a place where a weary and tired(not so long career) Slayer could rest forevermore.

* * *

"Slayer…"

Buffy aroused from her strange and weary sleep turned about. The dream had felt so strange… so real… her heart even gave out a quick and fluttering ache. Buffy now alarmed by the startling dream found falling back into sleep an almost impossible task. She used her two back arms to lift herself from the grubby floor of the Ship – _Christine_ – and readjusted her electric collar that signified her not only human but as a slave. For some reason this jolt and quivering feeling was wafting about inside her, keeping her from curling up in her rest place sandwiched between two other slaves. Her eyes wandered around to her companions who were all sleeping and cradling their broken bodies for the day tomorrow. The auction.

Buffy swiped a long lock of blonde hair from her face that revealed her astonishing green eyes and groaned. This would be a sleepless night.

* * *

**Authors Notes – **Hey I hope that was okay for you. I'm excited for this AU. Oh and I'm also sorry if Faith was out of character. I was going for that 'on a mission' feel. Oh well review please, flames welcomed don't go overboard

**Next Chapter –** We learn more about our upcoming characters and their plans.


	2. Watchers, Vampires, and Little Girls

**Story Name: **Grim Twilights

**Story Summary –** In a world where vampires are dominant and humans are their slaves broods an eerie dark plot of the past Slayer and her plans. But now the present Slayer, Buffy, is enslaved by a family of Slayer hunters, when she unlocks her powers she finds an opening available to her and to all human race, and to get to it she must untangle the roots to an bleached blonde's heart.

**Chapter Summary: **Ripper an angry vampire librarian. Spike the unusual Richard. Buffy the scared little girl. Xander the tortured human. And Angelus a man of pure artistry.

**Authors Notes: **I hope you all realize that Rupert is Giles and Ripper was another name for him when he was a bad ass warlock with a punker spirit 8) I wish we got to see him more often. I would also like to thank the ones that reviewed this story :) Your words defiantly makes updating faster. I love reviews good or bad. As well I know that chapter one had the title A Brand New Day that was because it was the original title of this piece but I changed it thanks to a little revelation on this story I had in the middle of the night. Sorry this is so long.

* * *

_"A ship is safe in harbor, but that's not what ships are for."  
__ ** –William Shedd**_

**Chapter 1: **Watchers, Vampires, and Little Girls

Faith was a fool.

Of course Ripper knew in the very beginning she wouldn't succeed even when he _had _been nothing but a sniveling little human his nose buried in the forbidden books of the Richards. Then though he had been nothing but a tool for flipping past and translating old prophecies or even just alphabetizing the massive library the family of vampires kept beneath their wing. Yes, just the thought of the old Rupert made his fresh demon squirm inside, so he had firmly accustomed quickly to this new found strength that now ebbed in his veins. He had grown fond of the keen senses and cool natured branches of being a vampire, and he only wished that the Richards had turned him sooner.

Course then it wasn't as if they had a choice.

_Rupert _not Ripper had known something…something dire.

And the only way to demolish of that something was to direct him in the ways of darkness.

But Ripper didn't mind. And he hadn't been surprised the next day he had been turned to hear about the once preserving and attitude giving Slayer was now found dead—a crumpled girl in the street. Of course the other civilized vampires we're now hot and shaking with panic, just the mere thought of human revolution took them by storm. This human girl had no collar, no owner, and worst of all she had been _strong. _Humans weren't supposed to be strong to fight back. They we're to be withdrawn their whole lives be either our food source or our pretty little toys to play with. The only hope a human could have was for their vampire owner to be so satisfied with their work that they would turn them. Forever.

But that was rare. Now vampires population was booming and wheedling around like worms. The low supply of fresh blood was beginning to weigh on these ravenous demons, and more humans we're being chose for blood storage then for little play toys. But soon there wouldn't be _any _blood packets waiting for them, one day the humans would fade away. And though Ripper despised and was disgusted by the race he knew just as well as any vampire that they would diminish without the beating hearted humans to have hearts that still…beat. It was a humiliating thing for this demon population, but they couldn't live without coinciding with that damned race. So here were the vampires, a once supreme race of superhuman blood drinkers—gone soft by indoor blood plumbing and worried their little human fiends will get set loose.

Honestly Ripper couldn't even conceive of anything more disgusting.

When Ripper wasn't breathing and only Rupert was awake in this world. Faith had been his hope. He had known more than anyone, the duties, the supreme destiny of the Slayer. All the prophets whispered it to fledgling vampires….the warning that was supposed to scare them into obeying and staying awake restless whilst the sun warmed.

_The Guardian will bring the world that was supposed to be…. _

_And rid the world of wrong. All in a flash of gold._

Rupert had come to one conclusion when he had read those lines. One person who could devour the age of vampires: with but a shimmer of gold. The Slayer. It had been the only thing that made sense to him. Ebbed and eaten away at the corners of his mind. It had been up to _Rupert _the gangly human slave, to save his race, to end a greater more deserving one, and to call and find the true Guardian. This Slayer.

Then Rupert had called himself Watcher.

Now Rupert was nothing.

But that disgusting human hadn't completely failed. His plan was still breathing, just barely. The one thing Rupert the Watcher had achieved was finding Faith.

And that had been through Wesley, the other Watcher.

But Wesley had ascended to the righter side long ago. A vampire he was, but he was a vampire with the goods. The forbidden weapons to aide in killing vampires, the texts to depict their weaknesses, and best of all that paper. That paper Ripper now yearned for so badly. Somehow that drooling Rupert had squealed and guttered his way right under Wesley's nose, of course Wesley was dust now, though not any one else but the Richards knew—vampires had grown akin and sick to the idea of death. They think themselves immortal, invincible—they don't even know a splinter can make them into nothing but an ash tray.

Wesley would have dusted anyway. The Richards couldn't have anyone thinking they had let a Slayer get away. And it was surprising even for Rupert, Faith had always been adolescent and persevering an immature little twit who liked the feel of wood in her hands a bit too much. She was reckless, and abandoned moral rules to get what she desired. Used her borrowed strength as leverage and paraded it around like it was her own. But it wasn't, it belonged to the demon essence given to her….oh so long ago.

Rupert had known all along, Faith had been a poor calling and that she wouldn't live through her mission that a new Slayer would have to arise to keep the balances in order. Ripper nearly chuckled to himself as he wondered what human girl out there was feeling extra angst today.

So Faith had been a middle man just a way to get the prophecy to hide it away from Rupert, well not Rupert anymore. _Ripper. _Rupert had been all too aware that his life as a Watcher would come to an end. The last Watcher. And like the asshole he was wiped the last traces of his memory so Ripper couldn't get what he wanted.

Now Ripper found himself hovering over limp broken Slayer remains, fiddling through her pockets and questioning down the all too alarmed pampered vampires around him. Nothing but holy water and stakes filled her pockets, and while Ripper tried to shield the all too consuming products out of the way he felt a sting nestle into his palm.

"Ow….Bleeding ow!" He was amazed. With only a drop of acidic water his skin had melted and turned into a large twist of dead meat. It had literally burned it away. What an amazing product…. Ripper thought to himself listlessly…. If I could only break it down…

There's little book derived Rupert jumping in where he isn't wanted.

"Ripper, stop playing with merchandise will ya? Big old peach won't like it. N'I am _not _in the mood for his poncey mouth shooting off at me anymore than it already has." Ripper peered up through a thick curtain of disheveled bangs, beside him with keen super hearing, he could hear and even feel the people around him bustling and whispering just the sight of the person that voice belonged to—chilled them. The Richards was a force to not be messed with, Ripper was only so lucky to have been a slave to their master Angelus and to be introduced into such a feared and powerful family. One that controlled all of Sunnydale.  
And here was one of them now.

"It isn't everyday we see a bleeding _Slayer _torn up on the streets do we? Not to mention this—" He shook the holy water bottle like a toy a fledgling would tattle with. "Is something that hasn't surfaced for centuries. I just thought having a bleeding second look would suffice." Ripper snarled, though Spike a darkened and respected member of The Richards was one of the highest in the family—he couldn't help but loathe the man. This vampire had been known to be a traitor, he knew it in the deep tangles of his black demon heart. He had done something with Rupert…if only Ripper could remember…

"Leave the Slayer filth to me. Besides ya shun't be so high strung over a Slayer anyways, its onl' the natural order of things. This was chosen long before you and me; there's always something that can fight back." Spike turned over his shoulder to peek around at the unsuspecting wide eyed vampire crowd. "Even if we've blinded these blokes to the point that they think they're invincible."

Ripper narrowed his eyes, stepping away from the bloodied leftovers of the Slayer and met up with Spike's sea deep eyes with ferocity. Around them was a thick yellow tape and squandering working humans who we're cleaning up the mess, and loading away the boxes spilled with muggy books. The Richards was the only authority in this nation.  
And Ripper was about to fight back with one of them. A traitor.

"Oh and I'm sure you would know about that…wouldn't you Spike. Helping the enemy…the _humans." _He spoke disgust lacing every word as thick as the golden tape around them. Spike, obviously disgruntled and annoyed, lolled a cigarette in his mouth. Uch, a _human _invention.

"How many times do I have to bloody spell it out to you ponce? I was not in any way associated with your….o'er half. I'm a sodden Richard. That name used to mean something."

"It means nothing when your two-facing it Spike. Just that you we're sired into a lucky family….and the second, the _second _I regain my memory and know what you did. I'm going straight to Angelus." Ripper growled deeply thrusting a hand out to Spike to shove him off but it only left Spike amused.

"Sires pet."

He chortled back and tried to maneuver his way around Ripper but Ripper could feel a force so angered and thriving that he shoved back, back to his superior. Sires pet!? He'd show this twit Sires pet. Angelus was Ripper's _God _his…._Yoda _he had taken him, lifted him from a world of grubbed hands and pulsing veins into a world where HE was king. Where HE made his own rules, and got to taste the most refined flesh that ever glistened.

Spike was nothing but a creation from one of Angelus's own little toys. Only related through Childe's. _Grandfather, _God Ripper ached to stake that Drusilla, that maddened little dark girl who danced around speaking of fairies and ghosts. Just so he could rid of the thing that created Spike.

"Yeah! And you would know all about that wouldn't you? Following Dru like a love sick puppy when you know that she belongs to Angelus. Everything belongs to him!" Ripper snarled shoving Spike by his collar. "And you have the audacity to even _think _that anything can belong to you? Nothing belongs to you Spike. Nothing."

Spike lowered his gaze, and at first Ripper smiled triumphantly feeling he had overthrown William the Bloody. Nothing but a sodden pupp-

A strong well muscled arm looped around Ripper's neck, tightened his hold and rushed him around so that the dolt had rolled off of Spike's back and painfully to the blood driven cement. Ripper groaned at the painful contact twitching to feel his limbs call back to him. Though Ripper had now been blessed with inhuman qualities he had yet to master them and as a fledgling Rupert's underdeveloped muscles didn't help any. With a flinch he attempted to pull himself by his arm locking behind him but he was forced back down with the sole of leather bound boot.  
"For now little old Rip. For now." Spike snarled and crushed his heel into Ripper's rib cage feeling it knead beneath his bones. "Now clean up this mess. And send all those books to me."

And though the two didn't know it, a slave girl by the name of Tara had just found a book that caught her eye and pocketed it beneath her stringy coat.

It read _A Telltale Guide to the Black Arts. _

* * *

Buffy stirred due to the hot sulky breath that coated her shoulder. She had only been slumbering for a few moments, every time she had found the will to doze off the blazing stream of nightmarish images crowded her brain. The girl with blood bubbling from her mouth, parchment so dear to her clinging in her fingers clouding with the ruby gems. Buffy flinched at the memory…no the _dream _of how her body had broken so easily. But even more how happy she had been when she had finally hit the pavement. How could such joy come from death? Such….sorrow from just breathing? Buffy was thankful for every breath she had, for every sense she still attained. And even more so that the few people she truly cared for we're safe and sound squandered in those cramped hot caves…but safe nonetheless.

Buffy peeled her eyes open gently as the eerie glow of the lanterns gently lulled her out of her quick slumber. The hot breath tickled at her neck, a place where Buffy guarded so diligently for thankfully she hadn't any scars around that area…yet. She snapped up, expecting to see a hungering guard vampire looming over her for a little snack. Thankfully she was mistaken, an old friend instead was just gently trying to rouse her.

Of course Buffy wasn't aware of its name, since it wasn't labeled anywhere. It was taken prisoner, like hers. Howling in the confinements in a cage, though with the animal it seemed more criminal it didn't belong to the thick strips of metal but to the glories of green jungle life. To the cool swift air and crunch of leaves beneath its paws.

Buffy sighed, she wished she could remember how grass felt like.

The Panther who she had been calling 'Button' thanks to its large bulging black button eyes that we're scanning the floor deck of the boat. For the past 42 hours, Buffy had been slowly befriending it as she fed the big cat a sizable piece of her portion of food serving, and the grateful feline had snapped it up delightfully—putting the girl in high regards.

Buffy had found herself gently stroking its maw as the animal purred deeply beneath her fingers. Now it hovered above her deep roaring cat meow rousing her and alerting her that the boat had almost come to bay.  
She felt the waves gently rock beneath her in a smooth motion, but though it was slow, consistent, she felt seriously sick to her stomach. And she had to cover her mouth and tighten her throat to suppress the urge to vomit. Sludge piled in her mouth distastefully, and Buffy had a hard time coughing it back down. Almost as if the cat could sense her growing anxiety it leaned into her touch—head as large as both her hands and cradled its warm furry chin on her shoulder. Buffy took the gentle concern warmly, and began to wonder if this animal even came from the wild. It seemed to tame and too trusting of the people… or demons it met. Maybe, like her, the fervent fire of a heart was dimming, wishing for only a companion.

It made Buffy miss Dawn considerably.

An ache caught in her throat at the thought, but she knew, that the only thing she had ever cared for was now safe and kept tightly locked away. Even if it was nothing but a musky claustrophobic cage… at least she wasn't a pet to demon spawn. Buffy felt her eyes blaze over, she wouldn't let anyone ever own her Dawn. No one.

"They vamp them, you know." A voice stirred its way out of the shadow of human slaves. Male, Buffy could tell, but by the tone it seem exasperated—almost annoyed. At first Buffy felt her heart surge threateningly, was it a vampire guard: awake and hungry? She quelled in her spot, scooted away from Button as fast as she could (though relishing the feeling of such a warm throat on her shoulder) and bit her tongue tightly-- her lips sewn together, anxious.

Brown tangled hair emerged from the mass of warm sleeping bodies, along with a flushed cold face. Pale as a ghost with an expression of loneliness and irritation carved in his cheeks and lips. Scary as it was. It was not vampire. Buffy immediately eased.

"The Richards, buy them for pets or guards, sometimes vampires aren't good enough you know? They vamp them for loyalty." His voice was rugged, and the boy tiptoed through the mass his wet mangled hair was mostly in his eyes, that matched the locks. With swift maneuvering he seated himself a good 3 feet away from her, quietly without waking a single soul ...or soulless.

"You can sire an animal?" Buffy asked, feeling like a small child. She was an alien to this new cold world. Tucked away in the quietness of the forest, where animals had warmed bodies—not demonic shells. She spied at Button the cat was still purring lovingly, and had stretched it head out his maw squeezed through the iron bars. A whimper escaped his leather lips, from the loss of his resting place. Buffy moved timidly closer to the animal, resting a trembling hand on its ear.

"Yeah. Some can even speak like human beings." The boy paused. "But there is nothing moral in there any longer. It'll drink blood and kill ruthlessly." His words we're dark and quick as a blade to re bottle. Buffy frowned, glancing at the large graceful feline. She could never imagine anything so gorgeous and tame as Button to be an unstoppable killer, one that would tear out her throat in a moment. A shiver escalated down her back.

"So… is that where we're going? To the Richards?" Buffy asked sheepishly. She was awkwardly shy, having not spoken ever to a human boy she found herself oddly nervous. And twisted her arms around herself, feeling the sack that was her coverage sag beneath her fingers. The boy stared at her, and cracked a toothy grin.

"You really are what they say you are." He laughed openly. The smile was much more welcoming than the grimace. "No. The Richards has just reserved those animals, most of us will go to labor farms or blood banks, if a Richard buys you then you are quite fortunate."

Buffy blinked having a hard time understanding, the boy in front of her was so still he seemed as if marble whittled right in front of her. Obviously he had endured very much, and his age was very unusual many humans never get to live that long, Buffy only was this old because for where she was.  
Now she wasn't anywhere _near _there.

"What's your name?" Buffy asked curiously. This would be the first person she'd ever spoken to outside, and she was so curious about him, his life, his identity. She wanted to know his and every other soul in here's story. The weight of longing drooped on her bones. The boy stared quizzical, wiped a few greasy bangs back his forehead. His face was dirty and moonlight colored, stubble bristled up his cheeks and sideburns, his nose was bent abnormally—his face containing that young boyish quality.

"S45." He spoke evenly, but his tone was much, much more cavernous.

"No. Your _human _name."

The boy became steely quiet he perked up and raised a hand behind his head, scratching his head full of knotted hair. He looked unsure if he should go around and tell Buffy his name as if it was a sacred secret. But nonetheless his voice shimmered out.  
"Alexander… but my foster used to call me Xander."

Foster? Buffy matted her lips together feeling them bleed. She was so unsure of this new worlds phrases.  
"Buffy." She said smiling and reached out a hand. Xander looked at it speculatively, and then gave a bottomless laugh. It ringed in Buffy's ears like hallow drums.  
"What sort of name is that?" He said through fits of chuckles. Buffy narrowed her brow and immediately withdrew her hand in anger. What was wrong with Buffy? She and Dawn had always liked it!

Xander quickly recovered from his little spat of laughter and met her eye with glints of glee. Buffy felt her heart warm, had she just made a friend? God she hoped so. The only things she had ever heard of friends we're from old bent over stories. Having a real one made her feel so enchanted inside.

"So when did they find you? I can tell you haven't been here long." Buffy pursed her lips and reacquainted herself with the memory ending in a shiver. She hated the thought… the predicament. She spoke out her voice wiggly.

"Two weeks?" She said unsure, the days seemed to bleed together. There was no hours, no days, months, or years. There wasn't even any sun anymore. Buffy felt her stomach churn, Xander seemed unfazed by her reaction, as if expecting it—he gave a small smile reached out an arm and touched her shoulder so lightly that it was only a brush.

"You'll make it. I can tell, you're stronger than most." He smiled softly his eyes glazing over. "Only the strong can survive here."

* * *

Angelus was getting cranky.

_Really _cranky.

Laid out in a leather hide seat, he peered out the window, his eyes glistening over the moonlight that washed over the moor. It reminded Angelus of how blood would seep into water, at first thick darkened ruby, then it would cream over a light subtle pink. The thought of it made Angelus give a curling smirk, so tight and long it twisted up his cheeks. Thinking about killing always made Angelus calm more, and though it felt like everything he had built up with blood and sweat seemed to be crashing down he could just..

Okay that didn't help.

A liquid fire furnished in Angelus's veins, an hot twist of exhaustion and fury rolling over and over in his mind. Angelus snarled lowly, feeling the Limo's down cabin rumble beneath him, the tinted windows seemed to cower as if they expected his reflection to jump up and shatter them into thousands of pieces. The driver a vampire that Angelus was pretty fond of as a chauffeur was named Adrian, and he glanced over the patented seats to squirt a look at his boss: a master vampire trembling in rage. Adrian tucked in his lower lip unsure how to articulate to one of the highest Richard. Ever.

Angelus's voice practically boomed from his seat, and Adrian hopped in surprise, trying to regain his control over the car once again. It skittered due to his clumsiness.  
"Keep your eyes on the road Adrian."

The Fledgling squirmed as if only the tone of Angelus's voice was suppressing him under a deep weight. Angelus flickered his eyes away, annoyed by his driver who usually was a level headed vampire who learned when to shut up. That's why Angelus liked him. Now the boy was fidgeting in his seat and stealing glances at him whenever he could get. And Angelus knew why.

Damn Slayers.

And Librarians.

The girl had been found this morning, and though Angelus knew that Spike and Ripper we're on the job to try and understand why she had escaped. Even more where that parchment went…  
The only thing that kept Angelus breaking out into some primal howl was that he knew even if the Slayer had found the parchment—she could have no way to unlock its secret words inside it. They haven't the key. Angelus gave a small growl. And neither did they.

It was a sacred piece of parchment, so delicate to the fabrics of time, of prophecies. Which was why it had been locked in a steel bolted vault for hundreds of years. Angelus closed his eyes in a distracted manner and opened them slowly—he began to wonder if any of them realized how important that paper was.  
What could happen if the Key was found?

Not to mention the Slayer.

Angelus mocked a swift clicking motion, pretending a neck, warm and lush with blood, had just broken and protruded from him. It made him smile.

Humans always disgusted him, weak, thin skinned things. They're souls they treasured so much holding them back from what they really wanted. So easily over conquered. So easily influenced. It was the most to have them begging at your feet, for more, or for death. The topic of torture was one of the sweetest and artistic things Angelus excelled in. It was his home.

Which was why Angelus was a bit lifted up now, as he felt the Limo rear to a stop. The gravel buckle beneath the pavement—his toothy grin smiled as he saw it. Vampires lined across a sludge driven moor, crowded, whispering, eager to get their prizes. They lay open for him. For only him. To rule it all.

He wanted them to kneel at his feet.

And then from the corner of his eye, he saw a small golden girl, one ripe for the taking.

* * *

**Authors Notes: **I was gonna have this chapter end with Buffy going home with Angelus but I decided not to. I like cliff hangers too much.

**What's Next?: **Buffy's first encounter with Angelus. Where will Xander go? Who is Tara and why does she have this book? And Buffy encountering with Spike… is he like the others?


End file.
